Sports and culture writing from overenthusiastic man-child Nicol Hay.
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One of the benefits of living in this time of grotesque, cash-bloated superclubs dominating football’s communal picnic by parking their cushioned lawn furniture on the most verdant grass and using their enormous, rapidly emptied hampers to create an impromptu fort with a ‘no paupers allowed’ sign hanging outside to keep the crustless sandwiches circulating only around the same elite tartan blanket – is that all football fans can now instinctively recite the recipe for the Well Run Club. And not just because Arsene Wenger reminds us that this recipe is his signature dish every time a microphone is placed near his face. We know all about the Well Run Club, because we also know that the alternative club is doomed to messy, Portsmouth-esque failure. The smaller outfit that attempts the Speculate to Accumulate path will find themselves rocketing past the other park-goers until they collide headfirst into that tightly-woven wicker fort (I’m not abandoning this picnic line of thinking, I’m too deeply invested now), collapse in a heap, and find themselves ransacked of any decent players they had stashed in their cool-bags before being cast back to the gloomy patch next to the stagnant pond where people let their dogs take a comfort break.
You can read this article in full at The Football Ramble, an excellent website for an even excellenter podcast.
